


chance

by Hailbilinski



Category: Better Call Saul (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pre-Slash If You Squint, Unlucky Nacho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23867824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hailbilinski/pseuds/Hailbilinski
Summary: Nacho thinks about probability. Déjà vu hits him like a shot to the gut.(Or: Nacho has a hard time relinquishing control. He struggles to leave anything to chance.)
Relationships: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca/Ignacio "Nacho" Varga
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	chance

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm not really much of a writer but I had to get this idea out. It's sort of Nacho's stream of consciousness during the finale. Not Beta'd, sorry, and I wrote it all, half-asleep, last night. I definitely do not speak Spanish, so this is almost entirely in English.
> 
> Nacho makes one mistake thrice in the finale; he doesn't drink any time there's a toast, other than when Lalo gives him a beer. So, because I was raised on that being impolite and more importantly, bad luck, Nacho will have to face some consequences, lol.

Nacho gets a bad feeling about the plan as soon as the cryptic call ends. He has absolutely no control over it. He will be letting them slaughter Innocents by opening that gate. Most of all, he has the most to lose if _anything_ goes wrong tonight, and the least control over the situation.

The way he sees it, there are three likely scenarios: Lalo dies tonight as planned, and Gus either lets him go or doesn't; Lalo somehow survives and Nacho betrayal is revealed; Lalo somehow survives and continues believing Nacho can be trusted.

He doesn't know what the best scenario is. If he tips Lalo off, Gus will have his father killed, and he may die himself. The second part is less pressing. His mind races with every individual variable. He runs the sink, making sure to smudge a bit of grease on the pristine counter.

Then he wipes it off.

When he rejoins Lalo, he does so with the intention of being as flexible as possible. He knows the saying, that man plans and God laughs, but that doesn't relieve his anxiety about his lack of control.

He'll see what happens, tonight.

And when Nacho sees Lalo sitting by the fire, thousands more possibilities race through his head. He could sit there all night with Lalo, let the man's disarming voice soothe him for once. He could pretend to hear something by the gate. He could bring Lalo inside. He could even do it himself. But he won't.

He gets the decanter, which he learns in short order is full of a ridiculously expensive cognac. He watches Lalo's hands as they pour. He looks in Lalo's eyes as the man sips his drink. Nacho doesn't bring his own glass to his lips, but it goes unnoticed as Lalo sees the smoke pouring out of the kitchen window.

Now is Nacho's chance, and his best shot is just to open the gate and leave.

But then, that awful feeling again. Too much left up to chance, too much left in the hands of unknown assassins. He opens the gate, raises his hands. Will all these men be able to take Lalo down? Or will the rat find a way to escape?

What good fortress would act as an inescapable trap for its owner?

He makes it out of the gate, out of the trap, but after only a few steps he freezes. The overwhelming feeling of panic jumbles his brain, but he knows his gut is telling him to turn around, figure out a contingency. _Just in case Lalo lives_ , he thinks. _Just in case_.

It would all be too convenient, too many coincidences to maintain plausible deniability if Lalo survives. And since when do Salamancas care about plausibility?

His feet turn before his mind even agrees to the absurd plan.

Back inside the fence, he hears gunfire ring. It's coming from inside the house, but still it's loud enough to make his head hurt.

He needs to think, but again that panic is gnawing at his mind. The clock is ticking, and he can't figure out how to clear himself of any suspicions, unsure if he'll even need to. Lalo hasn't come back out. He must be dead.

Nacho picks his way carefully toward the house. He'll stay out of sight -- he just needs a glimpse, just to see what the situation is, how the variables have changed.

He feels a searing pain in his gut and tries to will away his fear and panic. He knows he's in danger. He's never not in danger.

But when his hand brushes lightly over his abdomen -- over the scar that seems to twinge with pain whenever he's particularly scared -- it comes back wet. Dark red blood drips off his fingers, a bit thinner than molasses. The nervous sweat on his forehead cools. He can imagine himself standing there like an idiot, fingers covered in his own blood and face blanching quickly. He can't imagine it being real -- being shot in damn near the same spot as where Tyrus got him. Or maybe it was ricochet?

He wobbles in his next steps, trying to understand what was happening, trying to find somewhere safe. He almost makes it to the garden chairs and fire pit before he collapses. He drags himself the rest of the way. Then, he lets his mind drift.

He resigns himself to his own death, then, because as surely as Lalo is dead inside the kitchen, the assassins won't try to save him. He will have completed his duty to Fring with his death.

Without Nacho around to blackmail, his father would be safe.

He isn't aware, doesn't feel the gaze rake over him when Lalo looks to the chairs. But once the man's gaze returns to him, focuses on him, Nacho knows it.

His thoughts are a fifty-fifty split of _mierda, he knows_ and _how did he survive?_

But it doesn't matter how, just that it happened, and that Lalo has stalked over, towering above Nacho on the ground and grinning down at him. He watches Lalo's lips move and misses the sound they make. A hand is reaching out to help him up, and he stupidly reaches for it. As he stretches he notices another searing pain in his arm, what feels like a deep cut near his bicep. Nacho's hand moves and reveals the blood spreading across his gut, drying and stiffening his shirt.

Lalo curses above him, drops down instead of making him stand.

Nacho could swear that Lalo's eyes are both the softest and most angry he'd seen them in their short time together. He'd lost his home, but Nacho is still breathing. Nacho had taken the time earlier to reflect on Lalo's new trust on him, obvious from their interaction with Don Eladio.

When he looks in Lalo's eyes now, glued to his, then flitting around to his wounds, he sees that trust still. The softness Lalo had shown him -- welcoming Nacho into his home, dressing him and presenting him to the boss proudly -- is coming back in force, pushing aside the burning anger in the volatile man's eyes. He looks worried, as ridiculous as the concept is.

He knows it'll be gone soon, when Lalo has time to wonder how the intruders got in, but for now his focus is Nacho. For now, he cares if Nacho lives. He _wants_ Nacho to live.

For now he's okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched the finale and couldn't get enough of Lalo looking at Nacho that episode. Kinda reminded me of his big-softy look leaving Hector behind. 
> 
> I'm not really on Tumblr anymore, but if there's a discord for lalonacho or anyone has a Twitter I could follow, I'd love to! I need more of them on my tl


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